


Lost

by Kerriathechosen1



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Character Death, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Siblings, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Roman and Virgil are roommates, Sad Ending, Self-blaming, Virgil is only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerriathechosen1/pseuds/Kerriathechosen1
Summary: Ever since Roman could remember, Remus had been considered the lost child.Roman never really thought he was lost, though. He told himself that Remus just needed a little time; he’d find his way in the end, when it really mattered. Things would be fine.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Lost

Ever since Roman could remember, Remus had been considered the lost child.

Remus was the child that could never be controlled. Whenever he goofed off too much, his parents threatened him with “The Belt”, but it never seemed to faze him. Even when he  _ deserved  _ punishment for something he did — antagonizing the dog, back-talking his parents, nearly setting the house on fire — no punishment ever seemed to work on him. Ever since that one time he started laughing when his parents spanked him, they never wanted to lay a finger on him again. The chaotic nature of his laughter unsettled them that much.

Roman always wondered why it was so difficult for him to just do as he was told. It would have made their lives so much easier.

Remus was the child with poor grades. He never really cared for schoolwork, and unless the subject was interesting, he spent the class time writing stories in his notebook or doodling in his artbook. Often he was sent to detention for behaving poorly in class. He went there so often that it felt like a club to him, where he could continue to draw without interruptions. He very nearly flunked his grade every year, but he didn’t care.

Roman always wondered why something simple like studying was too much of a hassle for him. It might have kept his overactive brain occupied for once.

Remus was the child with life-threatening habits. He liked to walk down ominous alleyways and meet up with strangers in the dark of the night. He climbed and jumped across dirty rooftops, went to senior parties in middle school, and picked fights with anyone who challenged him. He learned what it was like to get blackout drunk before high school, and he tried every single drug he was offered, some of which he never got off. There were nights when his bedroom light didn’t turn off until he left his room for school in the morning. His eyes would have bags underneath them, but he’d just grab a Monster on his way to school, and walk around with a jitter to his movements and a crazed look in his red eyes.

Roman always wondered how that sort of lifestyle was possible, how it was one worth living. It might have been more apparent to him, if he’d looked deeper into his brother’s dark eyes, that it wasn’t.

Remus was the child with poor relationships. His family could hardly stand him, and he had no trustworthy friends of his own. He spent plenty of time with the drug dealers and troublemakers whose reputations were just as sour as his. Few others wanted to be in the same room as him. The closest person to a friend he ever had was a juvenile delinquent, Janus, but he’d been expelled during his second week at the school, and no one had seen him since.

Roman always wondered what Remus saw in him. It could’ve just been an equal in loneliness, but Remus never seemed lonely, so Roman erased the possibility from his mind.

Remus was the child with the messy appearance. “Messy” was a nice way of putting it. He only showered once a week, never wore deodorant, let his nails grow until they were over half an inch longer than his fingertips, and had acne and breakdowns all across his face and back. His clothes were covered in random streaks of paint and holes that he’d gotten being rough on the streets. He was eighteen years old, and his parents had to hold him down to cut his greasy shoulder-length hair and shave the sideburns he’d allowed to grow out. He picked at every scab that formed, and hid himself away in a dark room so the sun could never tan his pale skin.

Roman wondered how two identical twins could look so different. It bothered him to know that, if he didn’t take great care in managing his appearance, he might one day look like his brother.

Remus was the child with the uncertain future. Remus knew he wasn’t going to college, and he didn’t care. His parents didn’t mind; they thought he’d at least consider a trade school, or go straight into some sort of career. They didn’t expect him to wander the streets like a sewer rat as soon as he graduated, starting and quickly abandoning part-time work, never really finding a place he belonged. Roman was concerned, but he knew better than to bring it up to Remus — or anyone else, for that matter. Remus would figure it out eventually; he  _ always  _ found some way to bounce back from anything. It was one of the few traits Roman actually admired about his brother, and one that he knew he didn’t have himself. Nothing could ever take Remus down.

But Remus was the child with mental illness. Even before he’d gotten hooked on drugs, he had days when he couldn’t get to sleep no matter how hard he tried, because the thoughts running through his head refused to stop. He had days where he couldn’t get up from the bed, when he’d scream at anyone who tried to interrupt his moodiness, and then cry in silence once he was all alone. For days he’d eat any scrap of food he could get his hands on, or even things that weren’t food at all; then he wouldn’t eat anything for days, too busy with his art, or with his brooding in bed.

Roman and his parents always knew something was up with him, but they always thought it was self-inflicted, or something they couldn’t control. They never thought to take him to a therapist. They never thought to send him to a psychiatric doctor. They just never  _ thought  _ about Remus, only ever speaking about him as someone who lost his way in the world.

Roman never really thought he was  _ lost _ , though. He told himself that Remus just needed a little time; he’d find his way in the end, when it really mattered. Things would be fine.

They pushed him to the back of their minds, and moved on with their lives. Roman went to college, Remus moved out, and the world continued as usual.

***

Roman rolled over in bed and cursed the fact that he’d left his phone on — and at full volume, no less. His roommate was lying on his bed across the room, squeezing a pillow over his ears and shooting Roman a glare.

Roman stumbled over to his desk and picked up the device, groaning when he saw the caller id. It was just his brother, Remus.

He was tempted to press the “ignore call” button and shut down his phone for the night, but for some inexplicable reason, Roman found himself hitting “accept” and raising the phone to his ear.

“What do you want, Remus?” he huffed, his voice drowsy from sleep.

The static rang in his ears for a few seconds before his brother’s voice spoke up. “Roman, do… do you hate me?”

Roman blinked. “What?” He heard his roommate groan from his spot on the bed, but he didn’t leave the room to take the call; he was too tired. And it was payback for Virgil keeping him up the other night with MCR music after his headphones broke.

“Do you hate me?” The voice sounded sad, and awfully resigned. Roman’s stomach twisted, telling him something was wrong, but he pushed down that gut feeling.

“Wha—? I—? No. I don’t hate you, Remus. But I  _ am  _ wondering why the hell you thought it was a good idea to call me at…” He pulled away to look at the time, and flinched. “3:00 in the morning?! Remus, what  **_IS_ ** your sleep schedule?!”

“I just wanted to know… You can go back to sleep now.”

Roman’s gut feeling worsened. “Remus, is… Is something the matter?”

There was a brief pause, and Roman almost thought he heard a sob, but that couldn’t be right. His brother never cried; it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. He had just woken up from a dream, after all. He wasn’t fully awake — yes, that was it.

His brother’s voice was back to normal when he replied. “No. Everything’s fine — everything’s going to be fine. I just wanted to… talk to you.”

“... Okay… You know you can come talk to me if something’s wrong, right?”

“... Yeah. I know.”

The silence felt like it was beginning to claw at Roman’s throat. He yawned. “All right, well… I need to go back to sleep, Re. I have an exam tomorrow.” He picked up the bottle of water on his desk and took a sip.

“O-Oh… Okay…” There was another pause, and then Roman heard a soft, “I love you, brother.”

Roman almost choked on his drink. He sat it down on the desk, then glanced across the room at Virgil. He seemed to either be asleep, or dead set on ignoring Roman’s conversation, the pillow still against his ears.

Hesitantly, Roman murmured, “Love you too, Re. Now get to sleep, all right?”

He could practically hear the smile on the other end of the line. But he couldn’t see the sadness it held. “Okay. I’ll go to sleep. Good… Good night, Roman.”

“Good night, Re.” Roman hung up the call and turned off his phone, too tired to process how strange of a conversation that was. He crawled back into bed and curled up under his covers, telling himself it was just another one of Remus’s eccentric behaviors. Telling himself that nothing was wrong, because Remus was nothing if not honest, and if Remus said everything was fine, then everything was fine.

***

The next morning, Roman was told that his twin had committed suicide.

***

He stood in front of the grave in shocked silence as his brother’s cremated remains were lowered into the ground, into a hole only about the size of two fists put together. The hole went so deep into the earth that Roman couldn’t even see the bottom. He watched, disbelievingly, as the last physical remains of his brother fell down into the hole, miles away from Roman, lost to the darkness.

But the world didn’t crash down around him. Time continued to move on, and it wasn’t right. Nothing about this situation was right at all.

Roman’s eyes were full of tears, but he simply couldn’t accept what had happened. There was no way Remus could be  _ gone _ . No way. He… he wasn’t answering his phone because he’d lost it! It had to be some elaborate ruse; his brother would jump out from behind a gravestone any minute now. Roman chuckled as he felt the water run down his face. Any minute now… Any minute…

***

Hours later, Roman was standing alone in front of the grave, listening to the distant thunder as clouds rolled overhead. All light seemed to be leaving the world as the storm approached, and it was ironic. It was ironic, because  _ Roman  _ was supposed to be the light-hearted twin;  _ Remus  _ was supposed to be the dark and demented one.

But Remus was gone, and the light faded, and now there was only darkness.

Roman felt all hope seep out of him. The longer he stared down that dark, bottomless hole, the more his delusions slipped away. Remus wasn’t coming back. Remus wasn’t coming back, and he should have seen it, he should have  _ known _ , he should have  _ stopped  _ it—!!

… But he  _ hadn’t _ . He  _ hadn’t  _ seen it. He  _ hadn’t  _ known. He left his brother in the darkness, and now he was trapped in a separate vortex of pitch-black misery, and he couldn’t stop it from swallowing him whole. He knew that his world would never be the same again.

Now, after  _ years  _ of denial, Roman was forced to accept the fact that his brother truly was lost.

**Author's Note:**

> (Please seek help if you need it. You're worth it, and much more. <3)


End file.
